A Matter of Opinion
by Naos97
Summary: "There is no such thing as light magic nor dark magic; magic is magic, it simply is. Anyone who says otherwise has merely labelled magic to their benefit or outlook and people were foolish enough to believe it." Harry doesn't want to be on the Light or Dark side of the war; but how will he fare when his participation is inevitable? Create his own side of course. Starts from Year 1.
1. The Path I Chose

A/N: Originally the first chapter was going to be a chapter about Harry growing up, but it ended up being a bit choppy and would disrupt the flow to the next chapter. From this, I have decided to cut out Harry's childhood chapter and instead hint and reveal things about his childhood throughout the story. If anyone wants to be my BETA and tear apart my writing you would be my absolute favourite person in the world!

* * *

There are three kinds of intelligence: one kind understands things for itself, the other appreciates what others can understand, the third understands neither for itself nor through others. This first kind is excellent, the second good, and the third kind useless. _-Niccolò Machiavelli_

* * *

There was an odd silence in the Dursley household as four members ate stiffly at the kitchen table. Not a word was spoken. Among the Dursley's was the nephew of Petunia and Vernon Dursley, also the cousin of Dudley Dursley, Harry James Potter. There was not a squabble to be heard. Quite contrary, each person was just as antsy as the next.

A rattling sound was heard and the four of them jumped up before stopping all movement. They wearily stared at each other. Tension returned. Harry slowly returned to his seat followed by his aunt and uncle. "Go on Dudley, it's your turn," said Harry.

Dudley dashed out of the room and returned with a handful of mail. He was rushing through them—why did there have to be so much! He trembled as gazing at his expectant relatives. Harry had an impatient look while his parents looked anxious.

"Dudley?" Petunia's voice was raspy. He shook his head.

"How long does it take to send a bloody letter?" Harry was furious. He wouldn't have been so outspoken if it had been three and a half years ago. No, at _that_ time Harry had been little more than a slave to the Dursley's. He was never abused. Well, he was if you counted Dudley and his friends pounding him into the ground whenever he got caught—his aunt and uncle conveniently turned a blind eye when things like that happened. Otherwise he was just rough handled by the Dursley's. He ended up doing the majority of the chores including, but not limited to, cleaning, cooking, and gardening. He was told his parents were good for nothing drunks who had gotten killed in a car crash. He lived in a cupboard with spiders, not even possessing a real bed. He wore Dudley's oversized hand-me-down clothes. He was often neglected, portrayed as good for nothing scum by not only by the Dursley's but by the entire community. No, bullied wouldn't be the best word to describe his early childhood. Ostracized was a much better adjective.

Thankfully, he had discovered his secret by accident. Magic. Accidental magic. How the wonderful thing turned his life around. Accidently apparating approximately 230 miles away from number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey to Ilkey, West Yorkshire. He had been told upon his introduction that he was _extremely_ lucky that he had landed into a magical community and that it was him, Mr. Fane, who found him and not someone holding a grudge. That led to other conversations which led to Harry's first unveiling of the Wizarding World.

The Dursley's had been terrifying when Harry had initially returned. They adored the time they had without Harry but there was still a part of them that feared the _freaks,_witches and wizards, would be on their arses if they knew Harry had been gone. The magical community, however, were none the wiser of his temporary disappearance. Harry was not the meek boy they knew anymore, though. In fact, he yelled at them with accusations forcing them to reveal they knew the truth about him the entire time. The Dursley's had no choice but to respond. For once, the tables had been turned. Harry finally had the leverage he needed over the Dursley's. He may lack physical prowess, but he held other forms of power. Harry had alliances. He had knowledge. He had _magic_.

Since then, Harry had spent most of his time out of Surrey. Of course, to the majority of the magical community he was still somewhere safe. Funny thing was that aside from a select few, no one knew where he was. He feared that if word spread that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, returned, the same people who put him with his muggle relatives would send him back—or worse, obliviate him before he got sent back. No, he was fine living a quiet life if it meant being away from the Dursley's.

It was the reason that he was currently back at said Dursley's house. Apparently Hogwarts acceptance letters picked up residence, so he would have to be at 4 Privet Drive. Wouldn't want the Headmaster or Deputy Headmistress knowing he wasn't there as apparently they were present as they left Harry on their doorstep. A doorstep! In a middle of a cold night. It had just turned November! Though from…informants… Harry had gained through his alias Hadrian Grey, apparently the Deputy Headmistress wasn't too pleased about the arrangement.

Harry wasn't sure when the letter would arrive. All he knew was they were distributed in July. He had been waiting a few weeks now. It was irritating. He just wanted the bloody letter already. He didn't want to be at the Dursley's and, in kind, they didn't want him there. It was a mutual agreement they formed a while back. Everyone was happier that way. At least there was nothing keeping him from staying at the Dursley's throughout the day. He slept there, sometimes stayed for breakfast depending when the mail came and then he would disappear for the day until he chose to return to sleep.

Petunia left the table with the dishes.

Harry was storming to the door until he heard Aunt Petunia scream. Curious, he ran to the kitchen to see what had frighten his aunt when he saw something he should have expected: an owl. Of course, Harry was aware that owl's delivered mail but seeing as Surrey wasn't a magical community he always held the assumption that his letter would come through the muggle post.

Harry took the letter from the owl. He grinned. The others had expressions that cross-mixed between expectant and petrified. Harry purposefully drew out an agonizing silence to nerve his family before finally telling them what they expected. "It's my acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., ,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

"Right, now out you go, boy," Vernon said eager to return to his normal family. Though he hadn't dared call Harry freak in years in fear to the repercussions.

"Just one moment. I've got to reply." Harry turned towards the barn owl. "You'll wait a moment, won't you?" Harry had grabbed some ink and parchment from his belongings to write a response.

_Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,_

_I've received confirmation of my acceptance and would be delighted to attend._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Harry tied his response to the owl after he gave it a snack. He hooted in contentment.

The owl flew off and Harry turned to face Uncle Vernon. "I'll show up a bit later next year, not sure if the dates are fixed or not, but you won't see me until then." He stalked out of the kitchen and just as Petunia and Vernon let out a breath of relief and Dudley a whine of relief, Harry walked back in with a grin on his face. "I'd just thought I'd leave a parting gift." Horror ran through their veins as they watched Harry pull out a wand. A quick _reparo_ which fixed seamlessly the broken dish Petunia dropped followed by_ locomotor_ to place it back into the sink was all harry did. Nothing ill intent other than see them freak out. "Farewell."

Harry slipped his wand up his sleeve, closed his trunk, and waited not a second longer to leave Privet Drive. He put on an enchanted cloak which concealed his face. While his hair covered his scar, he didn't want just anyone to recognize him when he would eventually have to introduce himself as Harry Potter.

Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone nearby with a floo system and he couldn't apparate willingly yet, so he was stuck taking the Knight Bus. It wasn't the ideal transportation, but anything that got him away from there was good in his books.

"Morning Stan. Mornin' Ernie."

"If it isn't lil' Hadrian. Where ya off to this time?"

"Ilkey."

Harry smiled. He wanted to see Mr. Fane, Damalis Fane, again. They had an odd relationship. Mister Fane was a man in his late forties, possibly fifties—Harry wasn't quite sure as he had never disclosed such information, who had found Harry after his accidental apparition. Well, more like Harry had crashed outside his home before hurling on his lawn from the sensation of apparating. Harry apologized profusely. Mister Fane was a gruff man. Harry wasn't sure what the man did for a living, but the time spent with him hinted that it was either borderline illegal or frowned upon. He was also a bit of an anomaly. In his spare time he is off in some experimental chamber in his home. Harry wasn't privy to _what_ he was experimenting on but was promised he would be told whenever he succeeded. Despite the oddities, Harry latched onto him because to Harry he was the entrance to the Wizarding World.

It was odd at first. Mr. Fane would tell him some things about magic and the magical community, but was always cautious as to what he said. Told Harry he didn't want to be seen with Harry Potter, so Harry made an alias. Said he didn't want to be caught up in anyone's political games or accused of anything. Heaven knows not what they would do to him if the boy-who-lived was being influenced by him. Though he didn't idolize Harry, he still thanked him for whatever he did against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Harry had said there was nothing to be thankful, but Mr. Fane refuted that it is all a matter of perception; something went down at Harry's house when he was fifteen months old and Mr. Fane just needed someone to thank for taking down the man who killed his wife and daughter. Harry had remained quiet after that to contemplate.

At first Harry didn't understand as he was unaware of his fame. With time Harry came to appreciate his alias as to not cause a ruckus.

There were also certain topics that Mister Fane would never discuss with him. Told Harry never to bring it up around him either. He wanted Harry to formulate his own opinions, but Mister Fane is an opinionated man as well. If something is brought up, he won't try to hide his take on the matters; in the scenario of a completely serious matter Mr. Fane would often clam up instead, though, and the discussion would cease.

Harry couldn't help but like him despite his oddities and seclusion. He never did anything bad to Harry. And despite the claims that life would be easier if Harry weren't there, he never kicked Harry out of his home and even gave Harry a room to sleep and in his words "practice magic or whatever you do."

Harry had been scared at first. Despite the trace, it doesn't track wand magic until their first school term, so Harry knew he was safe from the little magic he did back in front of the Dursley's. There's an accidental magic department that would pick up magical signals before then, so that anything grave could be corrected. There was also another loophole Harry found. The tracker could only pick up signals by location, not by individual wand—which was also often disrupted by magic performed of wizards and witches of age despite their trace no longer existing—so any muggle-borns doing magic on breaks would not be able to perform any while magical families could easily get away with it. It was stupid regulation anyway. The trace was regulation which simply did not properly function and serves no logical purpose. Harry thought there was a lot of regulations that needed fixing, better scrapped, but for now he was just happy to have a place to call home. He was a magical being, a wizard, and he belonged in the magical community.

Honestly, he was slightly nervous about attending Hogwarts. There would be children who have been raised with magic their entire life. It was the kind of life he was supposed to have, so he supposed he was a bit jealous. It didn't mean he wasn't going to take the opportunity to learn more about the Wizarding World, but the anxiety was still present. He hated it. Because of the age his parents were killed, he cannot recall the early years being a part of the magical culture. Despite learning what he could in the past few years, even going as far as dropping out of muggle elementary school to maximize his learning, he continued to feel like an outsider despite feeling as if he belonged there. He compared it to immigrants trying to learn English: they could try all they want, feel extremely comfortable with the language, yet when it came to important matters you would always question is it really good enough because it is still foreign to what you grew up with, what comes naturally. Harry just didn't want to be misplaced when he knew he belonged, when he _wanted_ to belong.

It was several hours later when he arrived in Ilkey. He bid goodbye to the driver and conductor as he took his leave.

As he walked to his specific destination, Harry's fingers made their way to his nose and slid up. It was a habit that had formed to push up his glasses. He willed himself to stop half way. It had been 3 months since he last wore glasses. Why would he wear them when there was magical ways to cure his vision? Years after years of having terrible eyesight, but then one day being able to see clearly first thing in the morning was amazing. Bloody hell expensive, but worth it. It had involved a potion with expensive ingredients and needed to make enough to have a dose a day for seven weeks. He should have just paid someone to make it, but the potion was expensive enough and to buy the potion off someone would take twice as much money. Granted he had the money, but he wasn't going to waste it. Harry had lots of free time anyway.

It wasn't like he enjoyed working his arse off in the past years. If there was an easier way to do something, he would have done it. He needed to know the basic principles of the Wizarding World, though, and the best way to accomplish that was to read books on British Wizarding Law and Wizarding Political Thought books. Some of it was interesting; he was interested in anything magical, after all. Still, those type of text are as dry as hell and filled with words he had never even heard of—some due to his age and others referencing to magic stuff he had yet to learn. The process of even getting though a book usually meant he spent the day with someone and would constantly ask questions about what things were.

He'd also gotten a copper cauldron to try out some potions when he had wanted to try something magic related but was still frighten to try it. It had been explained to him that people usually don't get wands until they are accepted into school because then it's safe to assume that a person's magic is developed enough to harness it to conscious use. Using a wand before proper _natural_ development could result in nothing, at best, and possibly blown up, at worse. The thought had frightened him for a while, but finally came to a decision that if he could accidently apparate hundreds of miles away without getting himself splinched or killed, then he was ready for a wand. Actually, now that he thought of it, he should really find out if it's true or just some myth some geezer made up so kids wouldn't run around with wands to cause a ruckus; or even some advocate because it would be _unfair_ to muggle-borns.

He considered Ollivander's but was warned that he would probably be recognized immediately. Harry changed his mind immediately and chose to go to Jimmy Kiddell's Wonderful Wands. His was is 10 ½ inches made of Redwood with the core of a dragon heartstring.

Arriving at Mr. Fane's house, Harry didn't immediately see him. He lowered the hood of the charmed cloak which revealed Harry's face once more. At first, Harry had considered that he was doing his experimentations. Glancing around, he noticed that Damalis' outer cloak was gone. It became more likely that he was out on business. Harry would admit to his curiosity. He would also admit that there was a possibility that it would be better for him to never find out. Perhaps one day, but not anytime soon.

Harry glanced at the staircase before looking down at his luggage. It was heavy but needed to get it upstairs to his possessions. He thought hard trying to think of the spell to do that but it slipped his mind. He didn't know many spells, but the ones he put in the effort to learn were useful or could be useful to him. Like now. If only he could remember the incantation.

Harry finally gave up and faced his misery. He dragged his stuff up the stairs hoping he wouldn't fall. It wasn't until he made it to the top of the staircase when he realized that he could have just shrunk everything. It wasn't the spell he was originally searching for, but it would have worked. He glared at nothing in particular. Stupid brain.

Entering his honorary room he sat on the bed taking out his letter. He needed to decide what of his to bring with him.

Scanning the requirements Harry concluded that he would have to purchase his uniform, the course books—though, he was already in possession of _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot and _Magical Theory_ Adalbert Waffling.

Harry stopped reading the list as he walked over to his growing book collection. He read many of them already, though there were also several he merely skimmed through looking for particular topics of interest. Then there were a few he had yet to read. He skimmed the shelves looking for the two books he needed and tossed them onto the bed, returning reading his list.

He frowned when he reached "1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)". Not that money was an issue, something Harry was delighted to discover after his first trip to Gringotts—after the key dilemma, but cauldrons were expensive and it was upsetting he couldn't use the one he already had. His was copper, standard size 3. It held more, produced potions faster, and the quality was better. Even better than brass. Yes, he was definitely going to miss it. Maybe he would be able to convince his Potions professor to bring it next year. He could only hope.

He also needed a telescope and a brass scale. So, he needed pretty much everything. At least he had plenty of parchment, ink, and quills.

Skimming over the end of the letter, he saw that students were allow pets. Specific pets, but still pets. Harry wondered how many students attended and how big the school was to allow such a thing. While it probably would never happen, he tried to imagine every student having a pet. They would be everywhere. Then…

No broomsticks.

Harry had never flown before, never watched a quidditch game. He always wanted to try flying and now it seemed he wouldn't even be able to do that. So disappointing.

He packed his things before retuning downstairs and raided the fridge. Mister Fane got by cooking, but it wasn't very good. He stared at some of the leftovers questioning what it was. Being on the safe side, Harry decided he would just cook from scratch. He wouldn't admit it but at least something came out of living with the Dursley's. It was nothing fancy. Just some quickly made stew; it was bound to be better than anything left over in the refrigerator.

Harry ate in silence before saving the leftovers. He wrote a note saying he cooked and there were leftovers before grabbing his things and bringing them downstairs to the fire place. At least here there was a floo network.

Harry grabbed some floo powder before walking into the fireplace with his belongings. Dropping the powder Harry called "Leaky Cauldron" and he travelled to his desired destination.

Arriving at the pub and in, Harry searched for the owner, Tom.

While the place wasn't crowded, as it was the middle of the afternoon, there was still enough people to make a ruckus. He wondered what would happen if it came out that he was Harry Potter. He would have thought he being a celebrity was an exaggeration, but Harry saw it first-hand. He shivered at the memory of his first visit to Flourish & Blotts. He was looking at some children stories when he came across a collection of Adventure stories about himself. None of it was true but another shopper gave him a lecture about the importance of knowing Harry Potter when Harry commented on the series. The woman was a fanatic and she had frightened Harry. Now that he thought of it, he was referenced in several books. All inaccurate. He should probably check the authenticity of the rest of the books.

When Harry had finally spotted Tom behind the bar counter, Harry made his way over. He was one of the few people who knew Harry's identity. Harry remembered their meeting. Starry eyed and star struck, true, but at least he knew the meaning of the word privacy.

"Evening, Tom."

Tom's attention diverged from the heartedly conversation with two other partially drunk men at the sound of Harry Potter's voice. "Ah, and what may I get for you this evening?"

Harry reached into his cloak as he asked, "A room. I'll be needing somewhere to stay the remainder of the summer." Tom seemed delighted that Harry would be in his establishment for such a prolonged period. Harry's has stayed before. His stays never lasted longer than a few days, though. "Is room 9 available?" Room nine was at the end of a hallway. He had stayed in that room during his first stay. Harry placed the bag of money in front of Tom. "I won't be needing the change."

"Of course it is."

* * *

Harry was laying on the bed. He was reading _Ingredient Encyclopedia _for what must have been the fourth time. It wasn't that he wanted to read it that often, but the things in the book were things he has already come things he would come across in the future. It was so boring and each time he read it only a portion of the information would be remembered. He was casually reading it before groaning, and digging his head into the book.

When he finally had the energy to move, Harry tossed the book to the side of the bed where _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_, _Law and Literature, _and _The Dark Arts: A Legal Compendium _were.

He grabbed the black book beside him: _Nature's Mobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_. There were few copies in the world.

Harry's eyes gazed over as he traced the tree on the front of the book. He remembered the time before he knew of magic. Back then, there were times he would wish his life was like a fairy tale; that someone would come and whisk him away from his so called family. Sometimes he would even wondered what life would be if his parents were alive.

Due to his life, he quickly dismissed his idea. Through his experiences he was taught that he was alone. His life was his own and he was responsible for his own well-being, only he could decide his future.

If he were to be honest, Harry had become so isolated, therefore became independent through necessity, that even his parents were dismissed for the longest time. He began to think that while he may be their child, they were not his parents. Perhaps by blood, but he couldn't recall the short time they raised him, they couldn't nurture him to influence his opinion—there really were no ties. After discovering what really happen to them Harry felt the tiniest guilty.

He didn't even the open the book. He had looked through it enough times. He tossed it with the rest.

Harry's head buried itself into the pillow at the top of his bed.

"Is it so bad that I just want to belong?"

* * *

Harry descended the stairs and sat on a stool as Tom handed him a letter. He was confused as to why anyone had send him a letter until he opened it. Then his eyes glowed in understanding.

It was around that time that the door open from the muggle entrance.

"I told ya, mum. See it's just like McGonagall said. There's people in here, it's not just a broken down building." Harry flinched. Yell it to the world, why don't you. A boy his age entered. His hair curly blond. His eyes brown. His clothes were of good quality. His mother looked uncertain—though a bit of amazement was shown in her eyes.

"Honey, are you sure this is what you want? You could still go to Eton." If their use of the muggle entrance wasn't enough to indicate some form of muggle background or interaction, their conversation was enough for everyone in the vicinity to realize the boy was a muggle-born.

"Of course it's what I want. It's magic. This is gunna be so cool."

It was only the two of them. They must have wanted to come alone. It wasn't a rare occurrence. If anything, someone being escorted by a teacher was the rare occurrence.

Harry tried not to listen to the rest of the conversation despite how loud the boy was. He couldn't help but listen as they were right next to him asking Tom how to get to Diagon Alley, since they had been told to go through the Leaky Cauldron. It was just before Tom offered to lead them there when Harry spoke up.

"No worries, Tom. I've got it. I'm headed there now myself." It was the first time the boy and his mum took notice he was there. "C'mon. It's this way."

The two followed in silence. The woman was still trying to take everything in while the boy continued to look around in a daze. His gaze then landed on Harry with a curious look as they entered a room no larger than a large closet.

"Should you be wandering around by yourself? Is it safe? Where's your parents?" The woman asked in a stream of questions. Harry easily recognized she was merely worried about her own son when she would have no control over what her son did as he was away at school. Harry, even understanding her concern for her son, found it irritating to be interrogating and apparently the questions didn't end there.

The boy said, "Hello, I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley. I'm the first in my family that can do magic? Can your parents do magic? Why are we in here? It's small and stuffy. I thought we were going to Diagon Alley."

Harry was already regretting offering to help.

"Nice to meet you Justin, Mrs. Finch-Fletchley. My name's Harry Potter and I'll be beginning my first year at Hogwarts this September. I'm perfectly capable of wandering on my own. I would recommend you two stay together, though as you figure things out. Also, for you two, I would strongly suggest staying out of Knockturn Alley. Before you ask, you'll _know_ what Knockturn Alley is when you see it. As for why we are here, this is the entrance. I'll need you to remember the pattern for next time when you have a wand. If you ever forget, I'm sure Tom will help, but we don't want to make him do it when he doesn't have to." He purposefully ignored answering some of the questions and hopefully there wouldn't be any more questions. Harry tapped the pattern against the wall and it opened to reveal Diagon Alley. "Before you start shopping, you'll be wanting to go down that way to Gringotts the Wizarding Bank. You can exchange you're currency there. It'll take a bit to get used to it, I'm afraid, but the goblins will explain it to you if you ask. Now if you excuse me, I'll be taking my leave."

Harry walked faster than need be.

Harry was headed towards Flourish and Blotts when he stopped in front Broomstix. There were some children gapping at the new Nimbus 2000. Misery returned to Harry who wanted to fly.

Suddenly, Harry broke out into a grin as he realized something. The rules stated that first years aren't allowed brooms. It never said first years couldn't borrow other students' brooms. All he had to do was buy a broom, convince an older student to store it and if caught claim it as their own, then_ borrow_ it when he was at school. He grin widen. Yep, that would definitely work.

He continued his way to Flourish and Blotts. He would deal with the broom plan afterwards. After all, school was in little over a month. Students would be flooding the place. There had to be someone he could convince. And while he did find his fame annoying, especially since he physically didn't do anything, he wasn't afraid to use his title as Boy-Who-Lived if it meant getting what he want. If people wanted to be stupid and believe he was some hero then he would let them be stupid.

Entering the book store Harry noted there were a moderate amount of customers. Probably due to some anxious students who were eager to get their supplies.

Harry approached the man at the register whose eyes lite at the sight of Harry. "Got the notice, I see." Harry nodded as the man reached under the counter to grab the book. "Just came in, it did."

Harry placed two galleons on the desk. "Thanks. This should prove to be an interesting read. I'll also be purchasing my school books now. I intending on waiting on a later date, but I'm already here, and who knows haw crowded it'll be when I return."

"You never were one for large crowds," the man noted amusingly before helping Harry gather the books he needed—well he started to help before another customer came to the desk and Harry assured him he could manage on his own.

Finding the remaining books he needed, he returned to pay for them. Eight galleons it cost.

Exiting the shop a kid with vibrant red hair knocked Harry to the ground. He never even stopped his run as if he hadn't noticed he ran into someone. Harry scowled before sighing. He was about to get up himself when and arm grabbed each of his arms and pulled him up. Surprised, he looked at who helped him. Mirror image, they were twins.

"Sorry there, mate."

"Ronnikins has the charisma of a chizpurfle—"

"—and the intelligence of a troll."

"He's our brother, though."

"And we get some good laughs from pranking him."

Harry's brain went into over-time as he tried to keep up with who was saying what. He could already tell that they could cause trouble. He really didn't want to end up on their bad side, though. He didn't fancy being pranked year-round.

"S'alright. Thanks for your help." The red headed twins passed Harry the books he dropped. "I'm Harry, by the way."

"I'm Fred. He's George," said the twin on the left.

"No I'm not. I'm Fred he's George."

Harry didn't think he would be able to distinguish them even if they could agree on who is who.

Harry decided he's had enough of their arguing and said, "Alright, if you don't want to tell me, I guess I'll just have to call you Twin 1 and Twin 2."

"Why does he get to be twin 1? I'm older."

"No you aren't. This lad's got a good eye. I'm twin 1 because I'm clearly the better and older brother."

Deciding that their dispute will only end if their attention moved from each other, Harry said, "What's it like having brothers? I'm an only child myself."

"Having a twin is a lot of fun."

"Yep, we can get up to a lot of trouble—"

"—and they don't know who to blame."

"It sometimes backfires and we both get blamed—"

"—rightfully so, I might add—"

"But a thrill none the less."

"That was Ron who bumped into you."

"And you're sure to meet Percy eventually."

"He's a prefect this year, so we're gonna guarantee his misery."

"Perfect opportunity for him to loosen up."

"Though, not likely to happen."

"We also have two older brothers—"

"—Bill and Charlie—"

"—but they've already graduated."

"We've also got Ginny."

"She's our younger sister."

"Our only sister."

"She won't be off to school until next year."

"Think mum is just happy she finally had a daughter."

"Kind of jealous, though, since we'll all be gone except for her."

Harry gapped. It was all he could do. Their family was enormous. "Are you serious? There's so many of you. I really do only have myself. Slightly jealous, though I don't know if I would want that many siblings. I would never get any alone time."

"True, but we can have a lot of fun together."

Harry smiled. They were a close family. "We'll it's been nice meeting you. I suppose I'll be seeing you at Hogwarts, hopefully not from being at the end of one of your pranks. Maybe a front row seat to the show, though."

Fred and George looked at each other as if having a silent conversation. Who knows? Maybe they _were_ having a silent conversation. Could twins do that? They seemed to agree upon something as they turned back to face him.

"You're an okay bloke. We'll consider it. Can't make any promises, though," they said in unison. Now that was freaky.

"'Kay then. I'll see you later Twin 1, Twin 2."

* * *

Harry was bored. He needed to go somewhere. He had been spending too much time around Diagon Alley. An idea struck him. Maybe he could go see Aberforth today. After all, he was still trying to convince the man to let him feed his goats.

At first, Harry didn't really want to feed the goats. He had heard in passing about the wonders of Hogsmeade. Not really having anything to do, he had went on a whim. He ended up staying at Hog's Head that night where he met Aberforth. He was gruff, but somehow Harry found it endearing. There were several people who, if they ever knew of several of his acquaintances, would question his sanity.

During his stay, he had caught the old man feeding goats. He had asked to join him on a whim and told Harry no. Harry turned into a game. It didn't seem to matter what he did, Aberforth wouldn't let Harry feed the goats with him. He had even used his name, which in hindsight was quite arrogant, and it still got him nowhere.

Harry made visits every so often to complete his quest—feed the goats. He hadn't gotten any closer to feeding them. Through some mild rants that would sometimes escape, Harry could understand why. It was something Aberforth used to do with his sister before her death. It was a sore spot for him. Still, Harry continued to try and feed the goats.

Taking the floo to Hog's Head, Harry spent an afternoon with the man who tried to belittle him when he obviously liked Harry on some level.

He had to.

If he didn't like Harry at all, Aberforth would waste no time throwing him out. Harry has seen in before and Aberforth in a very confrontational man. Usually hexes were involved. Not pleasant for the ones hit, but they make for great entertainment for by-standers.

* * *

July 31. His birthday. Hurray, not. There wasn't really anything to do. There was a reason Harry usually didn't stay at the Leaky Cauldron for extended periods of time. He got _bored_. He had become accustom to only staying somewhere a few days. A few weeks at most. His visit was hitting the end of his patience and he still had another month to go. Granted, he spent a lot of time using the floo system to go elsewhere, but it still irritated him. Hogwarts had better be as amazing as people claim because if not Harry might just go berserk.

He figured he might as well go buy his supplies. Then he could buy himself a birthday present. Probably a broom. He should have asked the twins when he had a chance, but had forgotten in the moment of his own bewilderment.

Harry quickly purchased the remaining supplies he needed. While he didn't like crowds, he would admit that it was much easier to blend in.

Harry finally went to get his uniform. Hopefully they wouldn't look too bad and they were comfortable.

Making his way into Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. The place was busy.

"Oh another one. Hogwarts dear? Right, well come on." A woman ushered him into the back. The woman began to pin the clothing to their proper length.

Only a few moments later another boy was led to the back. He had a pointed face and his physical features gave him suspicion as to who he was. Of course he just had to be put next to Harry.

"Hullo, Hogwarts too?" the blond initiated the conversation.

"Yes, first year, though you could probably guess that."

"Well you are short."

"No shorter than you."

The boy gave Harry an odd look before stating, "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"You're really going to let your mother choose your wand?" There was no malice in Harry's voice, just incredulity. "_You're_ the one who'll be using it. Last thing you want is one that has a temper." The boy flushed a bit. Whether it was because his mother was doing something for him or the thought of owning a wand that wouldn't listen to him, Harry didn't know. "Though I agree with the brooms. There's no real reason why first-years shouldn't be able to bring one. I've never flown before, but I want to." The boy's uneasiness diminished. Harry decided to test his theory about who the boy's father was. "Your father is on the Board of Governors, isn't he?"

The boy was momentarily surprised before a smug smirk graced his face. "Of course," he admitted haughtily.

"Then if he and the board can't allow first-years, in general, to bring broomsticks to school, what makes you think your father will be able to do anything for you. Also, between the two of you, I would say he was a bigger threat. I doubt he would allow his own son to _bully_ him. The only magic you know, if any, was probably taught to you by your parents. He is much more advanced than you and would never let _you_ bully _him_ unless the outcome was something he wanted."

The boy was both angered and embarrassed, but Harry wasn't about to allow him to speak. He needed to calm him down to not start a scene.

"Though if you really want to sneak in a broom, I can think of a better way of doing so."

Harry caught his attention. "What makes you think _you_ can do it when my father can't?"

"I'm trying to talk to you and while I am at fault for questioning who your father was, I am trying to have a conversation with you. If you would prefer not to know, I can simply stop talking before I let you know of the loophole I caught so I'll have a broom at school and you won't."

The boy shut up immediately. There was a brief silence before he said, "Go on then. How do I bring a broom?"

Harry smirked. "You don't." After amusing himself with the other boy's anger, he continued. "We aren't allowed to _own_ brooms. The rules don't state that we can't borrow another student's broom. Just bribe an upper-year to cover for you by convincing any suspicious staff that it's their broom you are borrowing and not your own."

The boy beamed.

"There you are boy. All done with you," the worker informed Harry.

Harry jumped off the stool. He was about to leave when the boy said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. What's your name?"

Harry turned to stare at Draco. He weighed his options. Mentally sighing, he decided just to admit who he was. He was leaving now anyway. Draco wouldn't be able to badger him with question—or annoy him; whatever the outcome turned out to be. "Me? I'm Harry Potter. I must be off now."

Harry quickly headed towards the door. He passed Mr. Malfoy on his way out and could faintly hear Draco's voice saying "I met Harry Potter!" Harry rolled his eyes.

Broomstix was his next stop. The people around the shop would be more sympathetic towards his want of a broomstick then someone who hated flying. He was able to convince a fourth-year Hufflepuff student named, Ben Lorken, to cover for him. It was surprisingly easy. He had been ready to buy the boy his own broom to keep the secret, but all was needed was his name; Ben did need his name after all to cover for him if asked.

Harry bought a nimbus 2000 before making one last stop.

His last purchase was a tawny owl. Harry named him Rowan.

Now Harry was counting down the days until September.

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Also, I will mention now that I suck at editing my own writing. So if someone wants to be my beta that would be awesome._


	2. The Division of Houses

Chapter 2

A/N: I'm looking for a BETA if anyone is interested in helping. Also this is a GEN fic, especially right now while Harry is 11 years old. If I do decide to do any pairings it won't be until much later; it'll probably be hetero, and on the off chance I do write slash there will be no m-preg. Still deciding whether to even add any pairings or not though. Just thought I would say this to get it out of the way even though I'll probably be asked again at some point. I won't blame you either. I usually skip over a/n too.

**David305**: Thanks! That is actually one thing I can strongly agree with Voldemort. Good and evil are subjective and are bound to change for each individual and make societal changes in time. Power is a constant and impossible to get rid of. Whether voluntary or forced a chain of command is made. Yep! Magic is also deeply tied with intent in various cultures. It's like comparing two thieves: one steals because he can while the other steals for his bankrupt family. People tend to have more sympathy towards the latter but ultimately they are both stealing. Thanks for reading, and I'll be on a look out for a beta. I really do need one. I might be able to get my friend to do it, but unlikely.

**Kairan1979:** Mr. Fane's business is currently secret, but I'm happy that you're interested in him. I considered putting in a scene to show what he does, but thought I would reveal it when Harry finds out. Lol that should be a good reaction. Yeah, I agree. Though granted, Harry knows what Draco is talking about this time so he can say more than short answers. Draco has a different outlook of Harry because of this. Harry's opinion of Draco, however, is still pending. But Harry couldn't help but tell someone. He might be mature for his age, but he is still 11. He can't help but gloat sometimes even against his better judgement. Though, there relationship definitely won't be the same as in cannon. Though, if I wanted to write the story according to cannon then I wouldn't be writing this fanfic. Thanks for reading. ^^

**geetac:** Thanks!

* * *

_It's like you always have to put on a happy face, be the phoney-baloney, and I'm so not that. I never was that; I'll never be that. That is part of the business that I don't like. Maybe that will always keep me an outsider, I don't know. But that's fine. _ –Chloe Sevigny

* * *

Harry Potter was ecstatic. It was the first of September which meant he would be heading off to Hogwarts in a few hours. He had no qualms getting out of bed in the morning to do his last minute packing. He took a quick shower before frowning. Was he supposed to wear casual wear or his uniform on the train? He contemplated it for a moment putting on the first layer of the school uniform. The outer robe could wait. While he wasn't sure how long the train trip would be, it was bound to take a while.

Harry ordered some breakfast and asked for it to be brought up to him along with _The Daily Prophet_. Harry took a few bites of his meal before opening the newspaper. Harry scowled about a new bill that had been passed. Minister Fudge has no backbone. Harry would have preferred Crouch as minister if he had to choose between the two, but alas it was not meant to be. Crouch's popularity severely declined after his son's trial. Harry may not agree with all his views, but without a doubt he would have been better than Fudge. With Crouch, sure there many policies he wanted to implement that Harry didn't agree with, but he was straightforward with his plans, a workaholic, and overall more reliable and trustworthy. With Fudge, who knew who was manipulating him? Probably too many to count. He continued to eat as he skimmed though the paper. Nothing noteworthy.

He checked over his possessions once more hoping he didn't forget anything or left anything behind. It approached 10:40 so Harry chose it a good time to leave. Harry went to the floo network. "Platform 9 ¾."

Harry and his things disappeared from the Leaky Cauldron and reappeared at the platform.

Looking around he noticed it was the only platform. He guessed it made sense. No need to announce magic to everyone.

There were a few people already there. More appearing every minute. Harry made his way only the train and some upper-year helped him with his things. Harry didn't catch his name, but did thank the boy.

He was sitting alone in a compartment. The door was open, though, to invite people in. He certainly didn't want to sit alone for several hours. He was antsy. The school had kids from the age 11 to 17. Heck, some of the seventh years would be turning 18 in the next couple of months. He wasn't even a teen yet and there would be dozens of students already considered adults. It was a bit intimidating. It certainly wouldn't stop Harry, but he worried their might be a large gap in maturity—no, there was a guarantee to be a gap in maturity.

"Hi there. You're a first-year too? So am I. Do you mind if I sit here?" asked a blond boy.

"Of course."

"Thanks. I want to meet some people before we arrived. It might make the change easier. I'm Anthony Goldstein."

"I'm Harry Potter." Anthony's head whipped to Harry.

There was a sudden quietness. Anthony was looking Harry up and down. He felt like a piece of meat. Then his eyes landed on Harry's forehead and Harry resisted to groan. "Are you really? I've heard all about you growing up. I must admit I was expecting a little more."

Harry chocked back a laugh. An action Anthony misunderstood. "I don't mean any offense to you. You must be super powerful to defeat You-Know-Who," he said frantically. "It's just that—"

He couldn't hold it back anymore. He laughed. Anthony looked as if he had been struck by a stupefy.

Harry finally calmed himself down. "Sorry about that. I think I like you already. Though, I prefer not to hear about the stories you heard growing up. I've already read about the incident at least a dozen times and they all tell the story differently. Most of them are just simply bazar. I think I'll be happier not knowing what you think you know." He smiled which made the other boy relax.

Anthony leaned forward in his seat. "If they're wrong, what really happened to You-Know-Who?"

Harry frowned at the name. It was ridiculous. Voldemort and his followers may have been terrorists in the literal sense, they struck fear in almost everyone, but to be so scared they don't even say the name. It was even more ridiculous that the name was passed onto the new generation. Sure, that was the only name they were probably accustomed to because of their parents, but it was still ridiculous. "I don't know. What do you remember from when you were 15 months old?" Harry raised an eyebrow in questioning.

Anthony's cheeks pinkened. "Um… nothing."

"So what do I remember?"

"Nothing?" Anthony looked put down. He had honestly been curious.

"It's all right. I'll bet I'll be asked the same thing several more times before our arrival at Hogwarts. Then asked dozens of more times once we're there."

"At least you won't have to worry about people wanting to talk to you. You'll have friends in no time." Anthony was deflated. That was one of the things he was nervous about. He just wanted some friends. Being alone for seven years would be miserable.

"Friends or fans?" Anthony remained quiet. "Besides, you won't have to be alone. I'll be there."

"You mean it!" Harry nodded. After all, he didn't want to be alone either and Anthony seemed like a decent fellow. Better than the Ernie guy he walked past to get to this compartment. He was really loud.

The two began chatting, but it wasn't long before another first year joined the two. He had blue eyes and sandy hair. He introduced himself as Seamus Finnigan. He got comfortable sitting next to Harry before he added, "It's about time I can attend Hogwarts. Now I can learn something and use it against my cousin Fergus. He's already graduated and knows how to apparate. The twit won't leave me alone." Harry liked the guy already. Any lingering tension seemed to leave him as the boy seemed both comfortable and eager. "Sorry, gone off on a rant. What were you're names?"

"Anthony Goldstein."

"Harry Potter."

"You're Harry Potter!"

"Could you lower your voice? I doubt you want the entire trip to be wasted by people coming by to see _the famous Harry Potter_." Harry added the ending in a mocking tone.

"How did you—"

Anthony cut Seamus off. "He doesn't recall a thing."

Seamus gapped at Anthony before turning to gap at Harry. "Nothing! How can't you recall defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Don't you ever get tired of calling him that? It's such a long title. It's Voldemort," the two boys winced, "and no, I don't remember a thing. What am I supposed to remember? Summoning dragons? Sword fighting? An epic spell battle? I was 15 months old. I was probably still stumbling as I walked. I doubt I did anything… I'm just a survivor." Harry saw their pitying looks and decided he really didn't like it, so he quickly changed the topic. "Have you two grown up around magic?" He always had been curious as to what it would be like to know magic all your life.

Seamus took the initiative to answer first. "Me dad's a muggle, me mum's a witch. It was a bit of a shocker when he found out. Wish mum would have taken a photo. That would have been priceless. I've known of magic me whole life, though, if that's what yer asking. Gotta be careful, though. My neighbourhood is a mix wizards and muggles and me dad is a sociable one. Likes to bring people over to our home."

Anthony answered, "Both my parents are muggle-born, so I've grown up with magic. We have a lot of muggle tendencies. I was even shipped off to a muggle school for early education. Both my parents work, so it worked out best, anyhow."

"You went to a muggle school?" Seamus eagerly asked. "What's that like? Dad wanted me to go, but mum insisted she teach me herself. In the end mum won of course. Quite frightening she can be when she wants to. Especially when it comes to me."

"It wasn't bad, but it was nothing special either." Anthony shrugged. They learnt the basic of various subjects. Half the subjects would become useless in time but it wasn't like he could tell his teachers that. At least it was something to pass the time. "Kenneth was a bit jealous when he found out I get to go to a boarding school. He'll survive. Without me, that is." He got Harry to join the conversation by asking, "What about you Harry? You just disappeared off the map."

The dark hair boy shifted uncomfortably. He knew it was coming eventually, but it didn't mean he would like answering. "Well, you see, after my parents died I got shipped off to my aunt and her family. She's from my mother's side so she's a muggle. My aunt, uncle, and cousin abhor magic. Denied its existence but once my accidental magic came along I forced it out of them."

The looks he got were uncomfortable. They were absolutely shocked. He should get used to the looks. He had a feeling he would be getting many more thrown his way.

"No," Seamus whispered in disbelief.

The three continued chatting, not even realizing when the train took off until the trolley lady made her rounds past them. Of course they bought some. A kid with money is sure to buy some sweets.

"What house do you want to be in? I don't care which one myself. Mum was in Ravenclaw and dad was in Hufflepuff. They both want me in their own house, but for the sake of my sanity it might be better to be in neither," said Anthony. Hours had passed already, but there was still much to talk about. It tends to happen when you don't know anything about each other and you're headed off to a _magical_ school.

Seamus shrugged. "Doesn't matter too much to me. Mum was a Gryffindor, but I don't know if I'll fit there. I suppose no one knows where they belong until they get there, but I don't think I'd call myself brave. As long as I'm not in Slytherin. My mum would kill me."

"Right, the rivalry," said Harry as he thought about some of the stories he had heard of the houses. "The houses are more complex than just a few traits. Supposedly we are sorted by who we are and who we want to be. I haven't a clue to how we are sorted, but I wouldn't let it define who you are. It's supposed to help you grow not let the house form who you are. Personally I think I want to be in Ravenclaw. It's all I can hope for. I highly doubt I'll be placed in Hufflepuff; I hear there are some strong family ties with houses and both my parents were in Gryffindor, though for all I know it's from personality of being raised by their parents and I wasn't raised by mine. I'd actually fit into Slytherin well but if I get into that house it's bound to be divisive on opinion about me being there. But I also don't fancy the thought of being stuck in the Gryffindor-Slytherin feud for 7 years. But I don't suppose I have a choice. Wherever I go, I go. I won't let it change who I am. No matter where you end up, I'm still willing to be friends, how about you?"

They agreed, but Seamus looked confused as to why Harry would think he would fit in with the Slytherins. If Harry did land with the snakes he was sure his mother would have a heart-attack. Anthony was also sceptical to a Slytherin Harry, but stayed reserved on the issue.

It was about this time that a boy opened the compartment door. He was frantic and looked as if he was about to cry. He asked if they had seen a toad, but they hadn't so he muttered an apology for interrupting them before closing the door and running off to the next compartment before another word could be said. They blinked in confusion but shrugged it off.

Harry had been surprised when they had finally arrived without having been disrupted again. He was sure at least Draco would have searched him out to see if it really was Harry Potter he had talked to. With a train full of students there was a possibility he was simply too lazy to search each compartment. It was understandable and he wasn't complaining in the least. Well, he didn't think there was anyone else—correct that. There was that Justin kid who knew he was on the train. Probably knew the Harry Potter tale by now. He was probably busy trying to learn as much about magic as he can. Hopefully he and his mum took his advice to stay out of Knockturn Alley. Wasn't too inviting, so they probably did. Good thing too since they would have stuck out with their cluelessness and their safety could have possibly been at risk. Still, Harry was lucky for the relatively peaceful ride.

They got off the train and walked over to a large, burly half-giant. Half-giant… wonder how that happened. Anyway, he called for no more than four to a boat. Harry, Anthony, and Seamus entered one of the boats and a girl got in with them.

"Hi, I'm Hannah," she said nervously.

"I'm Harry." He glanced to the lake. "You don't think the boat will tip, do you? I can't swim. Never had the need to, and I don't know what lives down their either."

"I've heard there's a giant squid here at Hogwarts. If it does tip, maybe it'll save you," Anthony offered with a smirk.

Didn't squids have beaks? If there was a squid hopefully Harry wouldn't see it. What did squids eat anyway? He shivered with his thoughts. Surely, they don't eat people but he wasn't reassured.

"Um… I think I'll take extra caution with staying in the boat, thank you very much."

"Is the Boy-Who-Lived scared," mocked Seamus. He knew how to swim and wasn't scared of what might lurk in the waters.

"You're Harry Potter?" And Hannah just found out. Well soon everyone would know, but it was still irritating. He didn't bloody know what happen!

"Er, yes." It came as more of a question then a statement.

The boats began to move and everyone was admiring the scenery. It wasn't until they saw the castle that everyone was awed. Harry definitely didn't think he was going to be bored here. The place was huge. There was probably tones to explore.

They carefully got out of the boat once they reached shore. Thankfully, they were all still dry. It must be his lucky day. He made some friends, had relative peace, and it wasn't raining—would they still have to have taken the boats if it had been raining? Harry was happy but also wary. He may often be lucky, but things could turn miserable without a moment's noticed. Nothing ever seemed average with him.

They entered the castle and the first-years continued to be enthralled. The building was so magical. Even students who lived in magical homes had never imagined half of what Hogwarts was.

"Trevor!" Harry's head whipped around to see the boy who had been asking for a toad on the train. By the small toad in his hands it was safe to say that he had finally found him. How it ended up here, who knows? Perhaps magic.

The doors swung open capturing Harry's attention once more. A tall black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry got the feeling he did not want to get a bad standing with her.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She brought them to a small empty chamber just off from a room that was filled with boisterous voices. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your houses will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest all you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

So that was Professor McGongall. This first meeting definitely makes Harry not want to be on her bad side. She would probably eat him alive despite his status. He was more nervous to see Headmaster Dumbledore. He wasn't sure how he would react to seeing the man who insisted Harry live with his muggle relatives. He had heard many stories of the man. The majority of the populous speaks quite highly of him. His brother on the other hand seem to hold a grudge, and Harry couldn't help but think the man was justified. He didn't know the whole story, but he knew enough to make a judgement. He wasn't one to judge someone before meeting them, but again, it was his fault he was left on a doorstep.

Harry recognized the red head. If he remembered correctly, his name is Ron. He was going on about a troll and Harry couldn't help but role his eyes. They were going into the Great Hall. If there was a troll, no doubt they would be hearing screams by now. It was probably just lies started by his brothers to install fear.

He jumped—quite literally—out of his musings when tens of ghosts passed by through the wall.

At this time Professor McGonagall returned indicating the rest of the school was ready for them. "Now form a line and follow me."

Harry couldn't even imagine beforehand what he saw next. Entering the Great Hall behind some large kid, he stared at the enchantments. There were thousands of candles lit and levitated. Not a drop of wax fell either! There were four long tables, each sporting a different colour. The tables were laid with golden plates and goblets. At the front of the room was another table where the professors were seated. The first-years were led up to the front, right before them.

He heard a bushy haired girl say, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read it about it in _Hogwarts: A History._"

He turned to look at the Headmaster and whatever emotion he expected to have didn't come. In fact, his whole body calmed and his mind went rather blank as if he had no care in the world for the man—none of awe or hatred, but pure apathy. Well, that couldn't be good. He was rarely apathetic.

Harry turned to the stool McGonagall put in front of them along with an old, dirty, wizarding hat. He looked at it oddly. What was its purpose? Thinking it would move was unexpected, though, in hindsight, it should have been expected. Everything else in the room was magical, why not the hat two. A factor Harry never would have believed before also turned out to be true. The hat sang:

'_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!'_

Harry was too stunned to even consider anything other than the hat can sing. Not very pleasantly, mind you, but he just sang a song. Apparently, others in the room didn't share his opinion as applause circulated the room.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long piece of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be started." She didn't even pause before beginning to call out the names. Harry was suddenly happy to have Potter as his surname. It could be straight out creepy to put a talking hat on his head. "Abbott, Hannah!"

The girl with blond pig-tails, Harry recognized her as the girl who was on the same boat as him, stumble to the front. She placed the hat on her head, it was too big and covered her eyes, as she sat down. There was a momentary pause before the hat yelled out Hufflepuff.

Harry listened as the sorting continued. Susan Bones joined Hannah in Hufflepuff. Terry Boot and Mandy Brockhurst were admitted into Ravenclaw. Millicent Bulstrode became a Slytherin. He listened on. More people were sorted until McGonagall called "Finch-Fletchley, Justin". Harry was mildly curious as to where he would end up. He ended up in Hufflepuff.

"Finnigan, Seamus." Seamus gulped nervously. Harry smirked and gave a slight push forward from his spot in line. He hated his own anxiety, but it was fun to tease his new friend. Seamus had teased him enough. Harry actually felt nervous for the boy. It had been nearly a minute—there it was. The hat shouted Gryffindor. His mother would probably be ecstatic. He at least pitied him for now he was stuck in the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry.

By chance it was "Goldstein, Anthony" who was next. Anthony's sorting didn't take nearly as long as Seamus. It had probably only been 10 seconds before the hat yelled Ravenclaw. Was it his mum or dad who was in Ravenclaw? He couldn't remember. O'well, his parents would be having a childish spat when they found out.

"Granger, Hermione." It was the bushy haired girl who commented on the candles. She practically ran to the stool and she eagerly jammed the hat on her head. Impatient much.

It was a few more names before Harry recognized another student. Neville Longbottom. The hat took a while with him before declaring him Gryffindor.

When it was Draco Malfoy's turn, Harry didn't know if he should be surprised or not that the hat had barely touched his head before sentenced to Slytherin. He looked pleased as he joined Crabbe and Goyle. Harry wondered if they were actually friends, people Mr. Malfoy stuck with his son, or if Draco used them to look better—in both brains and appearances.

Harry watched more students come and go before his name was called. And boy did it cause a ruckus. "Potter, Harry."

"Potter, did she say."

"_The _Harry Potter."

The whispers in the hall began. In the slight chance that some muggle-born didn't know who he was, they did now.

Harry took a deep breath. More to drown out the students' voices than to calm his nerves. He walked up to the hat. Despite watching the other kids, he wasn't quite sure what to expect. People craned to get a look of Harry Potter. He couldn't be positive, but he thought he heard one of the twins' voices commenting it was the kid they met before. Maybe he would be lucky enough now to escape from their pranks.

Harry sat on the stool and the hat fell on his head, drooping over his eyes. "_Interesting. Very interesting. You've got a steady head on your shoulders." _Harry suddenly panicked. Of course it could see into his mind. What if he told Dumbledore that he left the Dursley's? "_Ah, no worries. No one else is privy to this encounter. Your secrets will remain just that. Now let's see. You're loyal and willing to work hard, but Hufflepuff is hardly the place for you."_

"_I could have told you that." _Harry thought back. He rolled his eyes from behind the hat. No point in letting a hat get the better of him.

"_True, Mr. Potter. You certainly have the nerve of Gryffindor, but alas you do not belong in the house of your parents. You possess wit, intelligence, individuality, creativity—even acceptance in certain respects. Things Ravenclaw admires in her students. You are also quite resourceful and cunning when you want to be. Plenty of ambition and determination, and your cleverness will help you on that path. While you have a good brain, perhaps it's better to say you are clever than intelligent." _Harry took offense to that. _"Don't get defensive. I also see you want power. I wonder what for. Ah, I see. You could become a great leader. Do you have a preference?"_

"_Ravenclaw."_ Harry replied without a moment of hesitation. If the hat was going to let him choose, he would take advantage of it.

"_Why?"_

"_Because it would be preferable to not be stuck in the pitiful dispute between Gryffindor and Slytherin." _The hat only took the comment as a means of self-preservation.

"_Not good enough. I'm going in deeper." _Harry didn't hear another comment from the hat for a while. He waited patiently for the hat to make a decision. Most of its observations were from his current persona. It was probably searching his goals and accomplishments. Anything that will give direction to the person he wants to be.

"_Oh, that is quite something. I've little doubt now."_

"_Will you just place me somewhere? I've been sitting here for quite a while and I'm not doubting it's caused an even greater commotion."_

"_You're not going to convince me one way or another again?"_

"_Not really, I'm sure you know what you're doing. You've be at this for what? A millennia or so. I prefer to just be seated already."_

"_If you're sure, let it be—" "_Slytherin!"

There was absolute silence in the hall. Harry knew this would happen if he landed in Slytherin. The other houses will have mixed feelings. Some probably won't care either way, but they'll be a silent bunch. The talkative ones will probably claim that Voldemort tainted him on the day he vanished or be wary around him. He scanned the tables for his friends. Anthony gave a small nod when he noticed being stared at. At least Harry warned them there was a chance he would be in Slytherin. Harry turned to the Gryffindor table next. Seamus looked unsure what to think. He would have to talk to him later.

The Slytherin reactions was how he expected. There will be divisions in the house too. Very few will be indifferent. Some will be suspicious as to how he got into Slytherin, some will believe he is a _dark wizard_ because that is the only possible answer that their parent's _Lord_ could be defeated, and then there will be the students who will make his life absolutely miserable.

The Slytherin table finally began to clap. Draco clapped rather enthusiastically with a smirk. Harry could tell some applause was more enthusiastic than some others. Still, Harry was a part of their house and even if they had to put their personal thoughts aside, for the next few moments they deemed Harry as part of their house—even if for the sole reason was to rub it into the other houses' (especially Gryffindor's) faces. Later after the feast would be something else.

Harry didn't notice but his Head of House was also struggling with many emotions. None showed outwardly, but he did keep his calculative eyes on him until the sorting demanded his attention once more.

Draco offered the seat next to him to Harry. He still hadn't decided what to think of the blond. Maybe knock the boy down a few pegs and make him think for himself instead of being his father's parrot then maybe could get along with him. It wasn't for him to decide right now, though. Harry would have enough enemies in the house, so anyone he could get on his side wasn't about to be turned down. Harry would just have to be careful with what he said. It would be a bit difficult at first because he was very opinionated, but it was something he could adjust to. After all, there were plenty of times already in his 11 years that he's had to keep his mouth shut.

Harry sat down next to Draco.

They watched the rest of the sorting. The last student was Blaise Zabini who was also sorted into Slytherin.

The Headmaster said a few words. Odd words, but Harry didn't think about it. It was then the feast magically appeared. Harry, along with many other first years, gapped at all the food. While not nearly as much, the feast reminded Harry of Mrs. Higgins. She was an elderly lady who Ilkey, not too far from Mr. Fane. She was all alone so would indulge Harry from time to time. She liked the company and would treat him like a grandson. She tended to overfeed him all the time. She was a sweet old lady.

The first-year on the other side of Harry was Theodore Nott. Nott was a familiar name and recognized it from his Genealogy book, but that was about it.

Harry was happy that Draco broke the silence among the first years. Pansy Parkinson was more than glad to indulge herself in whatever Draco said.

Harry listened to the conversation. He also met Gemma Farley; she was a fifth year prefect for Slytherin. He spoke a little, but kept it to a minimum. He had more important matters to think of. How was he going to survive being in Slytherin. He already began making extensive plans in his head. He kept a lot of it vague because things could change on a moment's notice. The first step would have to be accomplished within his first year. It was rather simple, but Harry knew it would take a lot of work.

Phase one: Get Slytherin House to Accept Harry Potter into Their Ranks.

* * *

_This was longer than I thought it would be. I thought I was gunna be able to get into the common room and be able to include some of the classes. I supposed I could have added it into this chapter but then it would have turned out close to 20000 words for a chapter. You know, I've always wanted to write a story with Harry in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw; it's too bad that the story works much better with him in Slytherin. Though, it shouldn't be a surprise to those of you who could see the cover picture. O'well, at least there is more dialogue in this chapter—something I'm more comfortable with. I think it's better written than the first though I suppose you all would be a better judge. I got this chapter out within a day, but don't expect an update tomorrow. I've got a mid-term on Tuesday that I need to study for. Hope you enjoyed it._

_Chapter 3: To be a Slytherin_


	3. To be a Slytherin(Sneak-peak 4000words)

**IMPORTNAT**

_**REWRITE**  
_

**As I am writing the story and making plans for future chapter, I am finding that I am referencing to the past too much. Because of this and compulsive, paranoid tendencies, I am going to rewrite it so that the story begins in Harry's childhood. It is more to the story, stops all the references I will have to make. It also lets you find more about Harry's character and how his childhood has shaped him and even the changes he undergoes. It pretty much will explain why Harry is the way he is.**

**Now, because I already have this written and it has been a while since I updated (all my tests and papers are due within the next few weeks TT-TT) I'll let you read it as a sort of preview as to what it to come anyway.**

**Since this is an unfinished chapter anything that is written may be subjected to change. I already know one thing about it I wish to change.**

**First Chapter of the RE-WRITE, Colluctancy, is now posted.**

* * *

_If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. _–Maya Angelou

* * *

Harry was following a prefect to Slytherin's Dungeon along with the other first years. He inquisitively looked at the many moving portraits in fascination. He had, of course, already seen moving photos, but he's only ever seen one animated photo. He found himself fascinated that the portraits could interact with each other and move into another's portrait.

Harry's head snapped to the front to the semi-curly blond, fifth-year witch when she said, "Congratulations! I'm Prefect Gemma Farley, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Slytherin House!" She had been welcoming at the feast, but Harry just assumed that was for first greetings. She was so happy. He knew there were false rumors about Slytherin house, but they couldn't have been _this _far off, could they? Perhaps she was an oddity? But then why be put into the position of prefect. "Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of the creatures; our house colours are emerald green and silver, and our common room lies behind a concealed entrance down in the dungeons. As you'll see, its windows look out into the depths of the Hogwarts lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by—and sometimes more interesting creatures." So there _is_ a giant squid. "We like to feel that our hangout has the aura of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck."

Harry looked at the prefect inquisitively. He was excited what the dorms looked like down. If it held even a pinch of magic that was present in the Great Hall, then it would sure be a sight to see. Maybe he would even see the squid. If he did, he could tell Seamus when he next saw him—or maybe not. It might give a hint as to where the Slytherin dorms are.

"Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin—and a few you should forget.

It may have been imaging it, but he thought Farley had briefly stared at him meaningfully before giving a pointed stare at Draco.

"Firstly, let's dispel a few myths." This caught Harry's attention. He thought he was going to have to learn the hard way to discover what rumours of Slytherin was true and what were bigoted lies. "You might have heard rumours about Slytherin house—that we're all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard, and rubbish like that. Well, you don't want to believe everything you hear from competing houses. I'm not denying that we've produced our share of Dark Wizards, but so have the other three houses—they just don't like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long line of witches and wizards, but nowadays you'll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one Muggle parent."

Harry almost eased up with this statement. He wouldn't be hounded for having a muggle-born mother then. He was a bit confused as to how so many rumours started. Maybe because they openly admit there were dark witches and wizards who came from their own house? Harry doubted it when he saw the dubious looks and the sneers that both came notably from Draco and Pansy. Blaise also had a heated look when Farley mentioned the word muggle. Perhaps there was a darker grouping within Slytherin—a frateriny? That would mean there wasn't a direct relationship with Slytherin. Just strong ties from being formed of Slytherin students. No, that wasn't right. There were those kind of witches and wizards in every house, just like she said. So strong ties to Slytherin from being composed _mostly_ of Slytherin students? Harry would have to pay attention to inter-house relations in the future.

Things were looking up for him. From what Farley said he _should_ be welcomed like any other Slytherin. If his hypothesis is correct, then it's the inter-house group that he will have problems with.

Harry suddenly how important it was to stay of Draco's good side.

"Here's a little-known fact that the other three houses don't bring up much: Merlin was a Slytherin." Harry was perplexed. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. He was pleased though. He was in the house of the most famous wizard in history. Maybe things wouldn't be as bad as Harry imagined. They hadn't even gotten to the dorms yet and the future was already looking brighter. "Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very house!" Harry doubted that. He probably learned lots more after he left school too. Nevertheless, her enthusiasm and house pride showed. "Do you want to follow in the steps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth?

"I didn't think so.

"But that's enough about what we're not. Let's talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest house in this school. We play to win, because we care about the honour and traditions of Slytherin."

Harry's posture immediately improved. Despite all the information being thrown at him, he was soaking it all in like a sponge. This would be interesting. What did it mean to be a Slytherin?

"We also get respect from our fellow students," she continued. Harry doubted it. From what he could tell from the Sorting Ceremony, there were plenty of people ready to hex the lot of them. "Yes, that respect might be tinged in fear—" Yes, that was much more likely. "—because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you've got access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case." Harry found amusement as he imagined it. Unfortunately, it would never work for him. Say he had access to any _curses_ and people will stop thinking him a hero and start thinking of him as a Dark Lord. Hexes were perfectly fine knowing because they're considered "light", but curses were another story.

"But we're not bad people. We're like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood." Misunderstood was something Harry definitely was.

"For instance, we Slytherins look after our own—" Harry severely that extended to him. Even those within the house who consider themselves future dark wizards and witches. "—which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers." Some of the girls were insulted, muttering they were girls, but didn't confront Farley about it. She was a girl too. "The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we're concerned, once you've become a snake, you're one of ours—one of the elite."

While Harry didn't doubt that there was some truth in the comments about Ravenclaw, Harry didn't take it too seriously. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before; Anthony was in that house and he even asked the hat to place him there. Mr. Fane was in that house too. He had heard a few stories from him about him and his three best mates. One had been a genius, but abhorred studying; that bloke spent most of his time lounging around without a care. Another was somewhat similar to Farley's explanation of the house. He had been quite studious and wanted to be the best, even with consequence of losing some of his friends in the process. The third was a girl who was studious too, though, unlike the other she was studious for her own personal reasons opposed to show off. And despite being studious there was a lot she couldn't do. Most of her studying was just trying to improve herself. Mister Fane had done his work, but he wouldn't call himself studious. Most of what he studied wasn't related to the courses. A healthy interest if not a little obsessive. Still, he scrapped by school, which he supposed was impressive. Harry had also remembered his complaints about the riddles to enter the common room. Harry smirked at the misery it must have been when no one knew the answer.

"Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You've been chosen by this house because you've got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special—" Harry looked at Crabbe and Goyle who hadn't really been listening to anything she said. Yeah, he had those thoughts. "Well, keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them here, there's something great about them, and don't you forget it." Hopefully, people take that last bit to heart.

"And talking of people who aren't destined for greatness, I haven't mentioned the Gryffindors." Harry braced himself for the series of insults that were sure to come. "Now, a lot of people say that Slytherins and Gryffindors represents two sides of the same coin." That wasn't what he expected at all. He continued to be surprised, though, it was a welcomed surprise. Harry chocked at the next phrase as did many others. Some even yelled in protest. "Personally, I think Gryffindors are nothing more than wannabe Slytherins. Mind you, some people say that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor prized the same kinds of students, so perhaps we are more similar than we like to think. But that doesn't mean that we cosy up with the Gryffindors. They like beating us only slightly less than we like beating them." She barely redeemed herself. Others were wondering how she was a Slytherin prefect. Some continued to ignore her, and others didn't really care what her opinions were.

"A few more things you might need to know: our house ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him he'll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Just don't ask how he got bloodstained; he doesn't like it." Since she didn't elaborate on the consequences of asking, Harry _really_ didn't want to know.

"The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider had entered it for more than seven centuries.

"Well, I think that's all for now. I'm sure you'll like our dormitories. We sleep in ancient four-posters with green silk-hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins cover the walls, and silver lanterns hang from the ceilings. You'll sleep well; it's very soothing, listen to the lake water lapping against the windows at night. You'll be in dorms of two or three. It'd be great if there were enough rooms for each individual, but that isn't the case. Just see it as a chance to better know your fellow housemates. You'll be sharing classes so it is a good opportunity."

They stopped in front of a wall and all assumed it was the dorm entrance. "Serpentium." The entrance opened, allowing the group entrance. That's the password for this fortnight. You do well to remember it."

Slytherin's Dungeon, the common room, had a green glow to it from the greenish lamps used for lighting. The room was fairly dark, but not in the least uncomfortable. It was cool. There was some black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas. There were also some skulls which Harry hoped were fake. He wisely chose not to think about it any longer. He distracted himself with the snake statue engraved into the fireplace.

"In a moment, our Head or House, Professor Snape, will speak to you briefly then off to your rooms. They are just down the corridor. Girls on the left and boys on the right. You'll find your belongings have already been moved to your rooms." Farley's never ending introduction to the house seemed to finally come to an end.

"Didn't think she would ever shut up."

Harry looked over to the one who spoke. If Harry could recall, she was Tracy Davis.

"Well she's gone now. I'm more interested in what Professor Snape wants to say. He's my godfather, you know," said Draco. Could the kid be in a higher standing? "I'll be awaiting potions. Hopefully we'll be with the Gryffindors."

Harry was confused. He said, "You were the last person I'd expect to _want_ to have class with Gryffindors."

Draco's smirk was the only thing giving away this thoughts until he finally decided to answer, "That may be true for any other class, put potions is sure to be a show if shared with them. Professor Snape adores us Slytherins. He doesn't hide his bias. He, however, _hates_ the Gryffindors. He'll take any opportunity to embarrass them."

The short conversation ended there as their Head of House arrived. His robes swooshed behind him in elegance and Harry wondered how he did it and if he could do it. Snape's eyes scanned his new first-years with a calculative gaze. Draco happily smirked up to the man. Harry, on the other hand, tried not to shudder when Snape's eyes landed on him. Harry had to give the man credit. His expression was flawless; it gave away no emotions and no hint as to what he was thinking. The only thing Harry could tell was this man wasn't a people person and wasn't one to share his emotions.

"Some of you may not appreciate being in Slytherin House," Snape said directly at Harry and everyone noticed him being singled out. Snape finally looked away. "—but you shall keep the Slytherin unity and keep up the image of his house. This isn't the house for the reckless. Your colleagues from the other houses may not like you, don't be surprised. There is a long history of bigotry towards Slytherins making it all the more important you stick together. As your Head of House I shall so what I can to protect you, but don't believe for a moment that you can get away with anything. If any of you do break the rules in anyway, don't get caught. The other professors will surely punish you if they catch you and I won't always be around."

Snape gave his warning and it was now up to each individual to heed it.

After a brief pause, allowing the warning to sink in, he continued, "For now get to bed. You'll be given your schedules tomorrow at breakfast." The first-years began to leave when Snape's stern voice added, "Not you Potter. Follow me."

Harry turned to Draco and gulped. This was the man's godfather. Harry reserved any judgement of the man at dinner, but now Harry could judge him. Snape didn't like him. Soon, Harry would realize just how mild that statement was.

The first-years travelled down the corridor while Harry turned around and caught up to the Potions Professor who hadn't waited for him. They were going in opposite directions.

* * *

The first-year Slytherin boys walked to their rooms.

"Well? Whose belongings are in which room?" Draco's arms were crossed and his foot tapping the floor impatiently as he waited—expected—the others to answer. Only Crabbe and Goyle really listened to him. If Zabini or Nott did it was of their own accord. They were both independent people because of their pasts. Nott grew up with his dad, a Death Eater, and Zabini got to live with his mum and her never ending list of husbands. From the group of them, it was only Draco who yearned for the attention. The center of attention at that.

"You could check yourself, you know. I only know what my trunk looks like." Zabini rolled his eyes as he opened the first door. Even if he didn't want to listen to Malfoy, he still needed to locate his room. Blaise opened the door giving the first-years a good look to what their rooms would look like. He gave a low whistle in approval. "Quite nice. This isn't my stuff, though."

"It's mine," said Theodore. He looked around wanting to know who his roommate was.

"Other's mine," admitted Crabbe.

"Mine's in this one." Gregory Goyle had opened the second door. Blaise peeked in before complaining it wasn't his either. He left for the third room finding his belongings.

Draco looked in Goyle's room before looking at the trunk. It was nice, but it wasn't his. "Must be Harry's," he mutter before recognizing his things at the room Blaise was looking into. Draco looked towards everyone else trying to figure out who had placed them into the rooms accordingly—probably the stupid house-elves. Nobody was particularly thrilled with the arrangements. It had to be a joke. "So I have a preposition. We just exchange rooms to make all our lives easier and better. Goyle move in to Crabbe's room. Zabini, Nott, take your things and move into the second room." It came out as a demand than a suggestion.

"What about you?" Nott stared at Malfoy suspiciously.

"I get Potter obviously. Crabbe and Goyle are already best friends so it's best to place them together. You and Zabini can be loners in the second room; it will work for the two of you. Meanwhile I'll get someone whom I shall get a decent conversation from. Seems to work for everyone," said Draco. It worked for the others, yes, but it also worked well for Draco. So far, Harry Potter had proven to be intriguing. Draco wants to know if he is worth more of his time. Also, his father had instructed him to keep an eye on the boy. His father thought Harry was a Dark Wizard, and Draco wished to impress his father and relay some interesting news home.

Zabini didn't dislike the Malfoy, but he wasn't about to praise the boy either. When he thought about it, he knew Nott would be a better roommate and be less likely to go looking through his possessions. "Alright, fine by me. I'm not moving Potter's things, though. Your idea, you do it."

"Fine."

The next few minutes were a bit awkward as they were all trying to move around each other, in and out of the rooms.

No one went to bed immediately like it was advised. Everyone knew they would be up for a while yet. They stayed to the confinement of their rooms, though.

Draco had sorted removed most of his belongings from his trunk and organized them in the room. He thought it odd that Harry still hadn't returned. Harry's trunk was tempting. It could reveal who the Boy-Who-Lived really was. What sort of person was he? As long as Potter didn't come back during his search, a lot of secrets could possibly be revealed. Perfect for blackmail too, if ever needed.

Draco glanced at the door once more. It should be safe.

He went to open it—

* * *

Severus Snape led Potter's boy to a vacant room. He was still boggled how the icon for the light, Lily and _Potter's son_, had managed to wind up in Slytherin. He wanted to be amused, imagining how _James Potter_ would have reacted to his son being a _Slimy Slytherin_ under _Snivellus' _care. Oh yes, Potter would be rolling in his grave.

Unfortunately, the reason for this amusement was also the reason for his dread and hostility. _He_ would have to watch over the boy. Any other house and there would be and endless amount of disdainful remarks towards the boy. And while he would never be _kind_ to the boy, he couldn't jeopardize his own house. It left him with few options. He would have to set the boy straight—though in Potter's small brain, he probably wasn't capable what he would tell him—and carry his hatred out subtlety in public; at least he was free to hate the boy in the dormitories. That wasn't a pleasant thought. Any unnecessary time with the boy wasn't pleasant.

Seven years with the boy. He was hoping to be able to get the boy out of his sight after failing his Potions OWL in fifth year, but now Snape was doomed to see the boy—even guide him in his studies. It took all his control to not flinch to the thought.

Yes, James Potter might rolling in his grave, but at least he was dead being none the wiser. Contrary, Severus had to live with it.

This was living hell.

Snape rough handled Potter shoving him into a chair he transfigured. "Sit." He would never admit it, but he was _slightly_ impressed by the boy's attitude. He didn't react at all to his separation of the group, the shove into the chair, the glares. None of it _appeared_ to make an impact. It was doubtful—he was eleven—but he had decent control on his emotions. Not perfect, but at least some potential was there.

Harry, however, was confused. He didn't spaz like a toddler or demand answers. The student already had the vibe that the professor hated him. He didn't like being hated, though there was an awkward acceptance that he felt—almost pleased—that someone didn't idolize him. It would make it a challenge to be on Snape's good side, or at least to the point of tolerance because while he doesn't like being idolized, he also doesn't like being hated.

Harry was confused about his Head of House. In many ways. And while there were probably a millions expression that would portray his confusion, he decided to give an innocent, confused face. If he played this right, he might get some answers. If not, well then the hatred from the crooked-nose man would probably increase. "Sir?" He'd play the clever innocent child. He needed to show the man he was clever since he didn't believe that he belonged in the house of the snake.

Harry mused. House of the Snake. Perhaps they should purchase a mascot.

It was another mystery Harry was still trying to solve: why can he speak parseltongue when it was supposed to be hereditary.

Hey! Maybe that could win him some internal house points. Not right away, but as a last resort to prove he belonged. He wasn't sure if it would be needed—Slytherins weren't as…political…as Harry had first believed. Harry had underestimated their attitudes and overestimated their character, if that made any sense. It was a school and they were students—most of whom didn't know much about the real world. Harry should have seen it coming.

Snape was giving Harry another calculative stare. Harry never got use to staring, but his professor's stare was just eerie.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . . (AND EDITED) . . . UNDER NEWLY POSTED COLLUCTANCY**


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